


The Consulting Criminal

by theredbloodedwoman



Series: The Consulting Criminal [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Blood and Violence, Child Murder, Consulting Criminal, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Gun Violence, Gunshot Wounds, Knifeplay, London, Money, Murder, Murder Family, Murder-Suicide, Obsession, Oral Sex, POV Jim Moriarty, Psychological Torture, Romance, Rough Sex, Sex, Shower Sex, Snipers, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-28
Updated: 2018-05-06
Packaged: 2019-04-29 00:01:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 17,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14460672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theredbloodedwoman/pseuds/theredbloodedwoman
Summary: He was her KingandShe his Queen.Obsession,sex and murder.





	1. The criminal and the woman

**Author's Note:**

> Updated 6-5-18

**JIM**

* * *

 

An early November wind blew through the abandoned street, tugging at the sides of his long, black coat. The pink neon sign of a fox was flickering above their heads.

Annoyed, he lightly knocked on the large wooden door. What was he doing here? He wasn’t in the mood for a place packed with people, the noise, the booze; let alone company for the night.

The iron shutter in the door opened, revealing a dark, blue eye, which widened when it saw him. Immediately the door flew open, shrieking by the sudden force.

He stepped inside and briefly gave the small man his attention. ‘Mr Moriarty…Mr Moran,’ he said in a high-pitched voice, lowering his gaze to the ground. Some of the staff working at the club knew who he was; he had made sure that they would keep that to themselves.

He walked up the small wooden stairs and pushed the dark red curtain out of his way. The noise filled his ears and the smoke was stinging in his eyes. A waitress who passed them, when they had stepped onto the balcony, nodded and took her tray with empty glasses down the stairs. Moran began to follow her trail; he let out an annoyed sigh before following him.

The people who sat on the large, dark red sofa in the middle of the club, quickly scattered away when they saw them approaching. He took off his coat and threw it over the back of the sofa before sitting down. Moran raised two fingers at the bartender behind the bar before happily slouching back. Moran loved it here, called it his second home; it was no wonder that this was the place where he had found him. He still remembered that day clearly.

He had just worked his way up in the criminal world, people coming to him now when they were in need. He was taking Charlie out for a celebration of his birthday, something Charlie had eagerly agreed up on. It had still been early, so the club wasn’t filled with people; mostly staff wandering around in boredom. A group of employees were playing cards in the back; trying to win some money of this new face. Moran had immediately caught his attention by his attitude; loudly speaking and taunting his opponents. He had watched the scene for a while before interfering; ‘you know it’s a naughty thing to do… cheating.’ Moran had studied him briefly before bursting out into laughter; ‘says who?’ ‘Well… me,’ he said nonchalantly, brushing his jacket with his hand. ‘Bugger off,’ Moran said before throwing another card onto the table. ‘This isn’t your game or your business.’ ‘Everything is my game and my business,’ he said with boredom, looking him dead in the eyes. Before Moran could reach for his gun, five men were aiming at him; he pulled his hand back up slowly. ‘Who in the hell are you?’ he asked in surprise, briefly counting the guns pointing at him. ‘Jim Moriarty, hi,’ he said in a high-pitched voice while raising his hand. Moran had been his right hand ever since.

The cold of the glass placed in his left hand, which was lying on the side table, disturbed his thoughts. He looked to his left and studied the waitress who had brought him the drink and was now cleaning away the empty glasses. She was pretty enough, her blond hair bound in a ponytail, slender and wearing a tight black dress, like all of them. When she felt him staring, she looked up with her bright blue eyes and smiled lightly. Almost immediately he lost interest, turning his head back and taking a deep swallow of whiskey. She was too ordinary; he could find ten like her here in this club.

Moran elbowed him softly and pointed towards a girl in the back, who was talking with a group of men. She wore a black, low cut shirt, showing a tattoo on her wrist, and a tight leather pants with high heels. Her auburn hair hung loosely over her shoulders. He could only see half of her face but that was enough for him to lose interest again when she smiled. Even Moran seemed disgusted by her teeth.

He twirled his drink in his hand, took another deep swallow and decided he had enough of it all. He put on his coat again, the collar up and plugged in his earplugs; which was a sign not to disturb him. He manoeuvred between the people dancing, walked up the stairs, crossed the balcony and pushed the curtain away again. When the small man by the door saw him coming, he wasted no time to open the door for him.

He took a deep breath when he stepped outside, enjoying the silence for a moment. He plucked his phone out of his pocket and nearly texted his driver to come pick him up. The wind blew across his face, letting him smell the scent of the city; he liked it. He looked up to the sky to see if there was any change of rain; the first stars had appeared onto a black canvas. He clicked on his music and began to walk.

While listening to some old tunes, he let himself enjoy the abandoned streets. People were easily boring him these days, so he was happy to encounter none. He followed the Thames for a time, watching the dark water rushing away slowly; his mind a blank. Just when Stayin’ Alive from the Bee Gees blew in his ears, a spectacle near the river wall caught his attention.

Two men were pushing a woman against a stone garbage bin, shouting. He unplugged his ears and watched; he loved to see ordinary people fight.


	2. Chapter 2

                                                                                                            **HELENA**

* * *

She knew Benny would be angry with her; how many times had he not warned her not to go out on the streets late at night; especially not on her own. She chuckled to herself softly; like she could not defend herself.

She felt the knife in the back of her pants, moving with her while she walked. The water of the Thames had been extremely cold but she wanted to feel at least a bit clean and wash away the after effects of the drugs Benny had provided her with.

She jumped over the river wall and made her way towards the abandoned basement they were staying these days. A sleepy, hungry feeling took over her while she crossed the street; she wanted nothing more than to snuggle away in the little nest she had built in the corner of the basement.

When she heard footsteps behind her, she went wide awake; adrenaline rushing through her body. ‘Hey you!’ a harsh voice shouted at her.

She stopped and turned around; two homeless men were following her. One was a large man, dirty brown hair stuck to his face and his brown beard was getting long; the other was skinny, his dirty blonde hair covered by a black beanie with holes, some stubble on his face and yellow teeth. They stopped in front of her and the large man studied her; ‘You’ve got any food?’

‘No, haven’t had any in three days,’ she said annoyed. ‘You sure?’ the man asked sceptical, looking at the pocket of her dirty jeans. ‘What do you say, Dale?’ Dale smiled sheepishly; ‘Think she’s lying.’

She rolled her eyes at the two of them and started to walk away. ‘Oi!’ the large man screamed at her, grabbing her by the wrist. ‘We aren’t done yet.’ She pulled her arm back in anger and tried to ignore them; the large man pushed her up against a stone garbage bin, giving her no room to escape.

His dirty face came closer, a stench of alcohol and rotten teeth from his mouth; ‘You are lying to me.’ ‘I told you,’ she said, getting angry. ‘I haven’t eaten in three days!’ ‘Ow really?’ he said while pushing his hand into her pocket, plucking out some pieces of gum; ‘what’s this then?’ ‘Gum… are you deaf and blind?’ she snapped at him.

He hit her hard in the face, her nose cracking in pain. She had enough of this, of him and his awful breath and of Dale who was laughing out loud. She slid her hand into the back of her pants to pull out her knife.

Stupid as he seemed, Dale noticed quickly enough, took her wrists in his hands and plucked the knife from it. ‘Careful Dan, I’ve heard she stabbed poor, old Joe thirty-six times with this,’ he said while waving the little knife before his friend’s face. Dan took it from him and studied it for a moment. She felt really lost now; she wasn’t much of a fighter only really good with knives.

The blood was coming out of her nose, dripping onto her shoes and the pavement. ‘Well… if you don’t have any food… I must please myself with something else,’ Dan said with a flicker in his eyes. He cut into the collar of her dirty, dark blue sweater. She was panicking now, remembering awful memories from her past. She tried her best to keep a steady face while thinking how she could get herself out of this.

Luckily, someone else lend her a hand. ‘Seems we have an audience, Dan,’ Dale said while nodding towards someone across the street. ‘What are you looking at, shorty?’ Dan screamed. ‘This doesn’t concern you, so bugger off!’

She wasn’t giving the person any of her attention, her eyes stayed focussed on Dan and the knife. She heard the person walk away and Dan turned back towards her; ‘the whole moment spoiled…’ He sighed and lowered the knife. ‘Keep her around then,’ Dale suggested. ‘For later!’

Dan nodded happily and kicked her down in the back of the knees. In pain she fell to the ground, cursing at them in her head. ‘Stay!’ he said while pointing the knife at her. ‘Or you’ll regret it.’ He and Dale also sat down, not far away from her; Dale plucked a bottle of cheap gin out of his pocket and happily shared it with his friend.

Rubbing the back of her painful knees, she sat there brooding. Benny would come and find her soon… at least she hoped he would.

Half an hour passed and there was still no sign of Benny, or Gavin. She would be happy to see him even if he was of no use at all.

Dale and Dan were already drunk, giggling and whispering to each other but still checking to make sure she was still there. Angered, she wiped the sleeve of her sweater under her nose again, it was drenched in blood.

Suddenly footsteps approached, walking directly towards her. She did not lift her head; not recognising the walks of Benny or Gavin. Two black, leather shoes came in eyesight, stopping in front of her. They were made from real leather, she could tell, not the junk they sold at the black market for high prices.

A smell penetrated her nostrils, making her stomach rumble. Was that soup?

‘Eat,’ a soft man’s voice with an accent said to her. ‘Please, leave me alone, sir,’ she said politely, hoping he would give up and let her be. The shoes vanished and she felt a small victory; only to be crushed when he sat down next to her, placing the soup on the ground.

‘Eat it,’ he said again, a bit more demanding this time. She could not place his accent and found him rather rude to somebody he did not know. He must be the person from earlier, how else would he know where to find them and knowing she had not eaten.

‘You are wasting your time there, mate,’ Dan cried out drunkenly, clearly forgotten he had told the man to bugger off not an hour ago. ‘She is as stiff in the head as they come, that one. But I could eat a bite or two; I would reward you in return.’ Dale snickered at the comment and she got angry again; why would he say something like that when he did not even know her.

The man next to her shifted a bit and clicked his fingers. That made her look up, first at him but then at Dan and Dale, who had two red dots on their heads, slowly circling.

‘As you can see, my dear,’ the man said calmly in his soft voice. ‘I am busy over here and I do hate it when people INTERRUPT ME.’ He nearly screamed out those last words, his personality changing immediately.

It was followed by two, almost silent gun shots. She saw how Dale’s brains and blood decorated the pavement and the wall behind him. The person who shot Dan had changed his mind in the last minute and had shot him through his left lung, making him suffer in pain while blood came pouring out.

She had seen dead people before; homeless people who froze to death in their sleep come winter and… her little brother of course. Fascinated she looked at Dale’s brainless body, the hole in his forehead was leaking with blood, forming a puddle under his head.

She looked back at the man next to her, surprised by his eyes. They were brown with traces of green in them but hard as steel and staring at her. ‘Do eat,’ he said softly. ‘We do not want to waste too much time here.’

She wasn’t willing to obey him just yet; even now she knew she could get shot at any moment. She studied him more carefully. He was handsome with his dark hair, combed backwards, clean shaven and dark suit, covered by a black coat; wealthy without any doubt, slender, not very tall and his pale skin seemed to shine in the lights of the street lanterns. He had a mysterious vibe going on, she dared to say even dangerous; which intrigued her.

She let her eyes rest on the left pocket of his trouser, clearly seeing the silhouette of a gun. He grinned a crooked, pointy smile, took it out and handed it to her. The feeling she got from his smile disappeared as quickly as it had come when she felt the gun in her hand. It was heavier than a knife but she could work it.

He opened his mouth a little, inviting her to play his little game of trust. She shoved the barrel in and clicked the hammer; Benny had thought her that. He stared at her and she at him; she loved the boldness in his eyes, not caring if she would pull the trigger or not.

She smiled while moving the gun a little and letting out a soft; ‘Bang.’ He put his teeth on the barrel and took the gun from her hands, his eyes showing the victory of winning.  She picked the soup up and took two, deep swallows.

She had totally forgotten about Dan dying not far from her; he was gurgling up some blood now.

A car drove into the street, stopping right in front of them. The man got up onto his feet and opened the car door before turning his head to see if she would follow.

She did get up, walked passed him and up to Dan, who was coughing heavily and gasping for air. ‘Here’s a bite or two for ya,’ she said softly before pouring the hot soup in his face. That was for punching her, making her bleed.

Before he could scream, she jammed the cup in his bloodied mouth and pushed it down with the tip of her shoe. He struggled briefly before choking in his own blood; his arms fell lifelessly next to him.

That was for wanting to rape her.

 


	3. Chapter 3

                                                                                                               JIM

* * *

 

Fascinated he had been watching her, arms leaning on the door and roof of the car.

She had just made a man choke to death in his own blood. She had interested him already when she wanted to stab the two men earlier but now he found himself wanting her.

While she was looking down at the dead man’s body, she gave him time to study her more clearly. She was pretty, even when filthy, covered in her own blood and wearing dirty clothes.

He saw potential; a new plaything… and would she eventually start to bore him, he could still find a spot for her in his network.

She walked up to him; for a woman living on the street, she did now how to walk seductively. When she passed, she gazed at him briefly; those eyes… he had nearly drowned in them earlier.

She was slender but her proportions were in the right places; he could see them even while she was wearing baggy clothes. Flexible she got into the car; he followed and closed the door behind him.

When he had tapped on the glass, separating them from the driver, he turned to her and pulled out his hand; ‘Jim Moriarty.’ She did not recognise his name; which was no surprise to him.

She briefly shook his hand; ‘Helena.’ “Helena… Helena… Helena,” he repeated in his mind; he liked the sound of it. 

He pulled out his phone and started to send out some texts to people of his staff; he did not want to be seen with a dirty new toy.

When he was done, he asked her; ‘how long?’ Implying to her time on the streets.

‘Twelve years or…’ she pushed away his coat and looked at the time on his watch. ‘Two hours.’ She ended with an innocent smile.

She was bold enough; he had to give her that. He had just ordered two men dead before her eyes and here she was touching him, no trace of fear.

Her smile caught his attention; she had nice teeth for someone who had lived on the streets for twelve years. Probably the gum… it made him laugh inside of his mind. He shared her addiction to that.

She slouched back into the seat, clearly feeling comfortable. She trusted him somehow, which flattered him deeply. He had seen it already in her eyes when she had decided not to pull the trigger; it had gained her some of his respect.

When she pushed her chest a bit forward, making her breasts a bit more visible underneath her sweater, he found himself wondering how she would look like without any clothes on.

To drive the thought away, he quickly picked up his phone again to see if Charlie had carried out his instructions.

He opened his text to see the exclamation mark. Leaving the rest for when they got home, he started to read some reports; the car filled with silence.

 


	4. Chapter 4

                                                                                                            HELENA

* * *

 

She had been following the roads they took, trying to figure out where he was taking her. She wasn’t surprised when they suddenly found themselves in a fancy neighbourhood. She watched how the large houses went by; the one more stunning then the other.

They left the neighbourhoods behind and drove through a small forest. She felt how the car was slowing down; a gigantic gate dooming up in front of them. The driver rolled down his window and spoke to the intercom in a hushed voice. Because of the glass setting them apart she could not hear a word he said.

When she looked back at Jim, she found him still gazing at his phone; showing no signs of interest at what was happening. The car moved slowly over a large gravel field, parking next to two different cars.

Jim finally put his phone down, opened the door and held it for her while offering his hand. She refused to take it, helped herself out and turned around.

A beautiful, light stone coloured mansion welcomed her; it was at least four stories high. Jim started to walk towards the gigantic stone stairs on the left, placed between green shrubs and plants.

She followed him up, the house growing bigger and found herself on a large, well lit terrace. While he opened the large, black front door and held it for her, she noticed the camera; it was watching them.

They stepped into a bright, white hallway; a large fireplace was in front of them, resting on white and little black tiles. When she looked up, she saw a dark gallery.

‘Up the stairs, third door on your right,’ he said with a little smile while pointing to the white stairs on their left. With that instruction he left her and vanished in the dark hallway next to the fireplace. She took a deep breath before she began to walk, impressed by the beauty of the house.

She made it up the stairs, went right and stopped in front of the third door. She hesitated a bit before putting the handle down; what would be on the other side of this door. When she opened it, she was welcomed by three women; clearly instructed to wait for her. She stood in the door opening, watching into someone’s bedroom.

‘Good evening, Miss,’ the tallest of the three greeted her. ‘Through this door, if you please.’ She gestured to a door on the right; gazing at her with the other two when she walked towards it.

She found herself in a large, grey and white bathroom; a steaming bath waiting for her. ‘Could I take your clothes, Miss?’ the tall woman asked her politely, standing right behind her. She turned around and undressed herself; the woman looked out of the window into the dark. ‘Could you bag them up, please?’ she asked while handing the woman her folded clothes. ‘I might need them again.’ The woman gave a small nod, turned around and left her alone in the room.

She walked up to the tub and checked the temperature with her foot. When she had decided it was nice enough, she got herself in and stretched. She laid her head against the edge and sighed deeply while the warm water drifted around her. This was so much better than the muddy, cold water from the Thames.

She enjoyed it for a moment before she began to wonder why he was cleaning her up. It did not take long before she understood; she had to pay him for his services. Being homeless meant she had no money she could give him; he wanted his payment in a different way, she had seen it in his eyes before she got into the car. Was she able to? It did not seem as if she had any other choice. She concluded she was able but was she willing to. She closed her eyes and pictured him before her. He was Irish, she had found out when he had introduced himself and he wasn’t a sore sight on the eyes. Smiling she opened her eyes again, she was willing to.

She washed herself clean and found a razor and shaving cream. Thankfully, she undid herself of unwanted hair, brushed her teeth and got out of the tub. She looked at herself in the mirror above the sink, astonished by the way she looked. Not minding the red scrape on her nose from Dan’s fist, she had never looked so clean; so good.

While she was plucking at her hair, the door opened again. ‘Please, Miss,’ the tall woman said to her while holding the door. She left the bathroom behind and seated herself on the appointed chair; staring into a huge mirror.

The woman with the red hair started to do her hair, cutting it and blow drying her curls until they shone in the light. While she was working on her hair, the tall woman was doing her nails. She cut and painted them before moving up to pluck some hairs out of her eyebrows. She had to flinch from the sudden pain, but never said a word; at Fairfine they had taught her to shut up when she was getting hurt.

When her eyebrows were done, the tall woman began to apply some make-up; brushing her face and painting around her eyes. When they moved away from her view in the mirror, her jaw almost dropped; even saying this about herself but she looked really hot.

The two women quickly gathered their things and wasted no time to hurry back to the place they were plucked away from. The last woman turned out to be the chattiest of them all. ‘Do you prefer any, Miss?’ she asked happily while gesturing at the outfits she had laid out on the bed.

She studied them briefly and picked a black dress. The woman took it from the bed, held it in front of her and made a face. ‘Apologies, Miss,’ she said while putting it down. ‘Black makes you look like a living corps. Taking the pretty from your face.’ She turned around while pointing out that the dress would not cover the awful scars on her back. It angered her more than it should.

‘This beautiful pink one will cover up all those problems,’ the woman said, turning around with a hideous, bright pink dress. Something snapped inside of her; who did this woman thought that she was. Those scars weren’t a problem; it merely showed what she had been through.

She took the dress from her hand and studied it for a moment. Like her hands were moving on their own, she wrapped the dress around the woman her throat and pulled. ‘I don’t have any problems,’ she hissed at her while pulling it tighter with all her strength.

The woman was struggling, clawing at the dress while her eyes grew bigger. Her legs gave out underneath her and she dropped to the floor. She watched how the last bit of light died away in those big, brown eyes before letting go.

She got up, plucked the black dress of the bed and pulled it on. When she had found some matching heels, standing next to the bed, she turned around and looked at herself in the mirror. The black indeed made her look pale but she liked it and so would he. She laid her hair over one shoulder, Benny had once told her that it made her look extra pretty, smiled at her image and left the room.

While making her way downstairs again, she wondered how he would take it that she had killed one of his staff members. She would find out soon enough and walked through the dark hallway she had seen him vanish in.


	5. Chapter 5

                                                                                                                JIM

* * *

He picked up some files that were placed on his desk, tugged them under his arm and left his office. He did not want her there… yet.

He made his way to the dining room instead, left the door a bit open so she would know where to go and sat down at the head of a large wooden table. He opened the first file and flicked through it, stopping for a moment to look at the picture. The man was completely different than the one he had met a few hours before. Clean shaven; bright, curly brown hair and a white smile on his clean face. Years had gone bad for Daniel Witter.

A gambling addiction had cost him his wife and children, massive depths, and a tense relationships with the rest of his family when he had come knocking on their doors for help. No wonder he had tried to lay contact with his organisation, messing it up when not obeying Larry’s rules. Bored he threw the file back on the table and picked up the next. Dale Jiggers was a different story, his picture was an old one, he couldn’t be older then fifteen there. Dale had a troubled youth, moving from foster family to the next. He had been arrested for shop lifting and violence.

He threw the file on the other, picking up the last. He cringed when seeing the picture, his body filling up with hatred. The picture was of a man, clad in a dark coat and jacket. Curly brown hair filled his head and his bright blue eyes seemed to see through everything. He sighed deeply when reading what Sherlock had destroyed this time; the man was becoming a real burden these days. Always interfering with Scotland Yard, making Gregory Lestrade look like a fool. Lestrade was a fool but he appreciated that, making his work so much easier. He put the file down, plucked his phone out of his pocket and began to text various people for an explanation.

He heard the door open, heels ticking against the wood on the floor when she slowly walked towards him. He paid her no mind, wanting to finish this first.

‘I killed your dressing lady,’ she said like it was something that happened every day. He had to supress a smile, he should’ve seen it coming; ‘why?’ ‘She told me black makes me look like a living corps,’ she answered in boredom. ‘How?’ he asked, liking her for it. ‘Strangled her with her hideous pink dress,’ she answered before stopping one chair away from him.

He had to smile and looked up, almost dropping his phone. There was nothing left that indicated he had plucked her from the streets, eagerly he looked at the beautiful woman in front of him, feeling his cock getting hard.

‘Sit,’ he said when he had calmed his feelings, pushing a chair back with his foot. She looked at it briefly before walking up to him, kicking his legs apart and sitting down between them. He had to control himself again while smelling her and feeling the warmth of her body.

When he opened his eyes, he saw the thin, white scars on her back. They made him curious but now wasn’t the time to ask about them. Instead he sniffed his way up her neck, letting his nostrils fill with her smell.

‘She was right you know,’ he said against her shoulder while inhaling her deeply. ‘Black makes you look like a living, death girl.’ When she dug her nails into his knees as a warning, he knew she was ready to play. He let his hands slowly slide down her slender waist, not only teasing her but himself in the process.

She turned her head, her blue eyes narrowing while she moved her hand into his pocket, slowly reaching for his cock. ‘Why don’t you find out?’

He kissed her eagerly, touching her tongue with his and tasting the mint in her mouth. When they broke off, he noticed the gum he had been chewing to be gone. He watched how she chewed on it a few times before making a bubble explode outside of her mouth.

Like he was stung by something he jumped up, placed his hands under her and put her on top of the table. Enjoying this as much as possible, he slowly let his hand move up her thigh and under her dress. When he had reached her cunt, he stuck a finger in; feeling how warm and wet she was.

She let out this cutest moan, cupping her head a little and closing her eyes. He kissed her again, sticking another finger in, noticing there was no room left for another. She was going to feel so good on his cock, being so tight, warm and wet.

While moving his fingers and she moaning in his mouth, his cock went fully hard; he wanted to fuck her badly. Not here, he told himself, getting his fingers out and placing his hands under her again to pick her up.

He carried her to his bedroom while she was wrapped around him and biting his lower lip. He almost threw her on the bed when he reached it, letting himself fall on top of her to kiss her again. Only wearing a dress and heels, she got naked quickly and eagerly helped him to undress.

There was no time to admire her naked body; he wanted to be inside of her and fast. She gasped loudly when he entered; he had to prevent himself from coming already. He had been right, she felt fucking good.

She moaned softly when he began pounding her; digging her nails in his back. He felt intoxicated by her, blurring his vision, filling up his nose with her scent, her soft moaning in his ears and that warm body against his own. He rode her faster, wanting to make her scream out loud. He needed to know how much she could take, his mood changed; turning violent.

He dug his teeth in her lower lip and bit down hard; tasting her blood in his mouth. It made her moan louder and scratching his back in revenge. When he held himself big and showed no traces of pain, she suddenly bit down his neck. The pain aroused him even more; he grabbed her arms, pinned them down and squeezed them hard while pounding her even faster.

She came with a load moan, squeezing her eyes together and her muscles tightening around his cock, squirting over it. He wasn’t going to let her enjoy it, placing one hand on her throat and squeezing it lightly. The nails of her right hand dug into the headboard, scratching it, while the other hand grabbed his hair.

He stopped for a moment, preventing himself from coming. She was just as into the hard stuff as he was; which excited him.

She sat up immediately, pushed him onto the bed and placed herself on top of him. He would let her have this one, giving him time to look upon her gorgeous body. He had been right about her proportions, in admiration he looked at her small breasts with dark nipples and her tiny cunt that was grinding over him.

She moved her hips in various ways, making him moan out loud. Apparently that turned her on even more and she came almost immediately. When he saw that, he couldn’t control himself any longer, exploding inside of her. She came like a fucking queen, so gracious, so lovely. He rode her out while she fell on his chest, breathing heavily.

He didn’t understand why but he held her in his arms while enjoying the afterglow.

 


	6. Chapter 6

                                                                                                          HELENA

* * *

 

While breathing heavily, she let herself fall onto his chest and snuggled her face against his neck.

She felt how he wrapped his arms around her, which she found odd but really appreciated it. He did know how to fuck, making her forget every other man that ever had her; even making her forget that man.

She shivered a bit while thinking of him again; Jim took it as a sign of coldness; at least that was what she thought.

He rolled her of him and put the covers over them, turned onto his side and placed a hand under his head. He started to trace the scars on her back; it made her feel really uncomfortable.

‘I can make the pain go away,’ he said softly. ‘Do you now?’ she asked yawning and turning around. She wasn’t in the mood for this conversation right now, it had been a crazy evening and all she wanted to do was to sleep.

‘I can, if you want me to,’ he continued softly, a flicker in his eyes. She sucked on her bleeding lip for a moment to think about it, staring into his brown eyes.

It had been years ago, so why should she open old wounds. Suddenly Gavin came to mind; screaming in his sleep, scared and nearly crying. The anger filled her up and she clenched her fist; ‘how?’

‘Ow…’ he said darkly but with a smile. ‘Leave that up to me.’ ‘Why would you?’ she suddenly blurted out, quickly finding a way to correct her mistake. ‘I mean, I can’t pay you.’

He chuckled softly before moving his arm around her and pushing her closer; ‘we’ll make up some sort of long term payment plan.’ ‘Long term?’ she asked with a small smile.

‘If you don’t fuck it up,’ he said with a little wink. That was a threat.

‘Now ask me.’ Suddenly all emotion had left his face and he stared at her, almost through her.

She was grateful for his offer but did not want to beg for it. Now that he had brought it up, she really did want to get her long awaited revenge; but she would need his help.

She took a deep breath before she asked; ‘Can you find those people?’

He shook his head while making disapproving sounds; ‘manners my dear, manners.’ Fine, she would play it his way; hopefully he would let her sleep then.

‘Please, Mr Moriarty, sir,’ she said in her sweetest voice. ‘Could you please find those people for me?’

‘Of course I can, you good girl,’ he said with a sly smile, brushing her cheek briefly before turning himself over the edge of the bed to get his phone out of his trousers. ‘Anything for you.’ She rubbed her face in frustration; he was toying with her emotions way too much.

The sudden light from the phone made them both squeeze their eyes together and she saw him typing fast.

‘Names?’ he asked while turning his head to look at her. In a rush of boldness, she plucked his phone out of his hands, smiled sweetly at his surprised face and typed in the names.

He chuckled when he read what she had written down. ‘Pretty please,’ he shook his head chuckling while putting his phone down on the nightstand.


	7. The ghosts from the past.

**JIM**

* * *

Sunshine crept through the room from behind the white curtains, which were floating in a breeze. His arm lay protectively around her, gently, trying not to wake her he pulled it back. He stretched them above his head, feeling good.

Silently he left her and the warm bed behind and made his way to the bathroom for a shower. The pouring water was stinging in the bite mark on his neck; he rubbed it gently with two fingers. It had been a long time that someone had been able to leave a visible mark on him. He did hope it wasn’t that noticeable, people might ask questions and he hated that.

Moran was to blame for this; hadn’t he urged to go out, he would have never met her in the first place and wouldn’t be looking like this. Quickly he made the delighted smile fade from his face. He had to be honest with himself, he had enjoyed last night a lot; he never had it this rough with anyone.

His cock was still hurting from it but he felt relieved. He pushed his forehead against the cold black tiles when that feeling came back, trying to supress it as hard as he could. He was starting to like her a lot, which he absolutely hated. The only girl he had ever liked a bit was Nathalie and it didn’t end well for her.

Alone suited him, doing what he wanted without having to care about anyone else. He bumped his head against the tiles a few times when he was starting to realise he was already beginning to care for her; did he not said to take her pain away? 

To hunt down the people that had hurt her and made her scared. He had noticed immediately when she had shivered, giving him a feeling that he had to fix it for her. Well, not had to but he wanted to.

‘Fuck,’ he let out softly, feeling an urge to hammer his fists against the tiles. He could just kill her and be done with it, pretend this had never happened.

He placed his hands in his hair and let the warm water fall on his face. What was happening with him, this wasn’t like him at all; feeling those things and thinking about her with everything he was doing. Even now, while he was struggling with himself, he wanted her to be with him, hold him, kiss him, fuck him… love… _no!_

He opened his eyes abruptly, regretting it when the water fell in and leaned back against the tiles. He would help her, as he had said he would and then she had to go, one way or the other. No one ever got to him and no one ever would.  

When his fingers were turning wrinkly, he closed the tap and left the warmth of the shower behind. While drying his back, he felt multiple stings when the fabric went over. He wiped away the fog of the mirror and turned a bit. Red scratches lay across his back, some still bleeding. Smiling thinly, he admired them briefly before wrapping a towel around his waist and stepping back into the bedchamber.

She was awake now, still lying in the bed and her arms behind her head; he wasn’t the only one with visible marks, seeing the bruises on her arms. He grinned while drying his hair with a second towel; ‘I thought you would never wake up again.’ A small smile formed on her lips while she answered sweetly; ‘well, you did take my breath away.’

He couldn’t help but chuckle at her comment, turned his back towards her and opened a drawer from the dark wooden dresser. He plucked out some underwear and covered himself up, feeling her eyes on his back. ‘So…’ she said a bit hesitating. He could hear her struggling to show not too much interest.

He had found a pair of trousers to wear and put them on, waiting. ‘Who are you exactly?’ she managed to say. He smiled a bit; ‘I do believe I have introduced myself, earlier.’ He refused to look at her and put a white shirt over his upper body.

Not pleased by his answer she said sarcastically; ‘So, we are just going to keep it with the man who can click his fingers and people drop dead.’ It made him laugh out loud while he closed the buttons of his shirt, he replied in a higher tone; ‘I have been giving many names but man who can click his fingers…no, no, no… that’s a new one.’

He turned around to face her while his laugh died away, her beautiful blue eyes had turned a shade darker then he could remember, a nonchalantly look on her face. ‘I do prefer the term of consulting criminal,’ he continued in his normal voice, eager to see her reaction to it. Her eyebrow raised a tiny bit, her face showing no emotion.

He turned around towards the mirror, failing to suppress a smile. He wasn’t surprised by it, she was different than the others; they had always wanted to run when he had told them who they were dealing with. She wouldn’t, not before she got what she wanted anyway.

He tied his tie and reached for a comb, watching her through the mirror. He had to treat her like a client, put his feelings aside and finish the job.

He seated himself on the bed, his back towards her so he did not have to look at her, put on some socks and shoes and slapped himself three times on the knees before getting up again. When he felt more like himself again, he turned around to face her; ‘I do like to keep you around for a bit, but…’  He changed his voice into a sing-song; ‘busy, busy, busy.’

 Without waiting for her reaction he turned around again, walked towards the bedroom door and opened it. He had asked Lionel to wait for him in the morning and there he sat, patiently waiting on a chair in the hallway.

For such a large man, he got up quickly enough and entered the bedchamber. He had specifically asked Lionel, knowing he had no interest in her; in any woman in fact.

‘This handsome beast of a man will keep you company for the day,’ he said to her before adding a bit more demanding; ‘don’t try to pull anything because…’ He almost whispered the last words; ‘he likes the fellows.’ He gave her an innocent smile and left her there.

When he had closed the door behind him, he took a deep breath and felt proud of himself. He had made it out.

 


	8. Chapter 8

**HELENA**

 

* * *

Carefully she looked at the large, black, well-dressed man that stood frozen solid in the room. Suddenly realizing she was still naked, she looked away quickly; a blush creeping up her cheeks.

‘Tea, Miss?’ he asked her stiffly, clearly feeling just as uncomfortable as she did. ‘S… sure,’ she said surprised by the sudden kindness. He nodded and left the room in a hurry.

She got out of the comfortable bed, hating the fact she had to leave it and made her way to the bathroom. This one was smaller than the one upstairs; black tiles and a large shower dominated the room. While she turned on the tap, she could feel the semen trickle down her thighs; she smiled a little at that detail and let the warm water wash over her.

She sighed deeply while thinking about the night before. She had absolutely loved every minute of it; she still did, even now with the bruises on her arms and her cunt crying out in pain. She was starting to like him a lot but knew she had to be very careful. He was different then the men she had met before, in a heartbeat his whole personality could change. It made her feel somewhat scared but his looks made up for it.

She thought back on his gorgeous black hair and stubble in the morning, those soft brown eyes when he looked at her, his pointy, crooked smile, his strong arms around her and then there was his kiss; so soft, so loving, it made her knees weak. A feeling of lust ran through her body, making her nipples hard; she wanted him again. She took a deep breath, ignored the urge and found the supplies she had used last night to be moved downstairs.

She started to clean herself while thinking back on the conversation they had last night. There was a feeling of excitement when she thought about the fact that she would finally have her revenge on the people that had made her youth a living hell. She knew he would find them for her; he was the consulting criminal after all.

Consulting criminal, it made her chuckle while she washed her hair; if she would live to see another day, she would like to find out what it truly meant.

It hit her hard when she suddenly realized she had no idea what he would do with her when they had finished her revenge. Would he kill her? Kick her back to the streets or keep her around? She would like to stay with him, she knew that much.

Cleaning her body now, she wondered how she could make it happen and suddenly she realized it; she had to make him want to own her, struggle from time to time but definitely let him own her. She would love to be totally his, in every way possible. She wanted to see if she could peel off the layers of his soul and finding a way into his heart.

She smiled while closing the tap and stepping out of the shower; it would be a little game that she would love to play.

She dried herself and clothed with a pair of clothes that were lying in the corner. No dress this time, just a black, shoulder bare shirt and jeans and some sneakers. When she came back in the bedroom, the large man was waiting for her behind a plate with tea and cups.

‘Your name was again?’ she asked him politely before sitting down opposite of him. ‘Lionel, Miss,’ he answered while getting up to pour her a cup. When she had stopped him from adding milk and sugar, she insisted he took one himself; perhaps that would loosen him a bit.

They drank in silence and when they were finished Lionel guided her back to the dining room where breakfast was waiting. ‘Have you eaten yet?’ she asked while looking at the full table, knowing she could never finish it all. ‘Yes, Miss,’ he answered shortly. ‘Don’t lie. I can always tell when people lie,’ she told him when she saw how his left eye twitched a little. He smiled thinly and changed his answer to no.

They ate the first minutes in silence before she asked; ‘what is this place anyway?’ Lionel swallowed a piece of toast before replying; ‘Mr Moriarty’s family home, Miss.’ She did not have to ask him what happened to its previous owners but it did made her curious; what had happened to him in his past.

When they were done eating, Lionel suggested showing her a bit of the house, to kill the time and not knowing what else to do with her. They started upstairs, strolling the gallery that did not seemed so frightening in the day light. Lionel told her that most rooms were occupied by staff members that had no place to go home to.

Apparently, Jim had a soft spot for the outcasts in this world because all of the members had a difficult story. Lionel told it all, throwing names and crimes her way that she already forgot when hearing them.

He took her up onto the balcony at the front of the house to show her the view. With a clear sky like that day she could see London city in the distance; it looked very peaceful. ‘Are you from London?’ she asked him while leaning on her elbows and admiring the view. ‘No, Miss,’ he answered truthfully. ‘Birmingham originally, came here when I was sixteen.’ She nodded, while getting intoxicated by the warm sun on her skin and the view, she heard herself tell; ‘I came here when I was twelve.’ ‘That’s…’ he said in surprise. ‘Very young… Miss.’ She shrugged and ripped her eyes of the view; ‘Sometimes life leaves you no other choice.’

He nodded and held the door for her to go back inside. A whole hour had passed to show every room from the upstairs.  While they made their way down again the front door slammed open and they could hear a man yell in a rough voice; ‘Make sure to wait for me! It won’t take long.’

A tall man stepped into the hall; he was muscular, dark, blonde hair and his eyes hidden away behind black sunglasses. ‘Ah, thingy,’ he said when he saw them coming down the stairs. ‘Jim around?’ ‘No, Mr Moran,’ Lionel answered stiffly. ‘Mr Moriarty left this morning, may I introduce you to Miss…’ ‘Helena,’ she said while putting out her hand. He grinned before introducing himself amused; ‘Sebastian Moran.’ He checked her out from head till toe before saying; ‘So, you must be Jim’s latest.’ She grinded her teeth a little hearing him say it like that, making it sound like she was just some random slut Jim had picked up. She smiled before saying; ‘and his last.’ Moran was taking aback by her sudden cockiness, clearly not used to a woman who dared to take him on. ‘We’ll see about that,’ he said grimacing turning a bit to leave again. ‘Such a pleasure to meet you, Mr Moran,’ she said sarcastically in her sweetest voice. He stopped half turn, struggled a bit but made his way outside again.

When she heard the front door slammed shut, she turned her head and found Lionel snicker to himself. ‘Do be careful who you insult in here, Miss,’ he said, finally loosening up a bit. ‘Mr Moran is not known for his patience with people.’ ‘Or his wits, clearly,’ she said while brushing her t-shirt with a hand. Lionel snickered again before guiding her to the kitchen and pouring in some drinks. ‘So,’ she said after taking a sip while sitting on the counter. ‘Who is he? This Sebastian Moran.’ ‘Some call him Mr Moriarty’s right hand,’ Lionel said shrugging. ‘All I know is that he is the fastest shooter alive and not bad with the knife either.’ ‘I beg to differ,’ she said before swallowing the last of her dink. Lionel raised his eyebrows at her, leaning on his elbows on the counter.

She opened a drawer and found a large kitchen knife; she loved the feeling of it in her hand. Through the opening from the door she saw a vase standing on a socket in the hallway. Closing her left eye, she threw it hard and heard it break into pieces. ‘Impressive,’ Lionel admitted. ‘Seems like you’ll fit right in.’

They stepped over the broken pieces back into the hallway, when they passed a door and Lionel said not a word, she stopped. ‘What’s in here?’ she asked while placing her hand on the handle. ‘Mr Moriarty’s private office,’ Lionel said a bit anxious when she pushed the handle down. ‘I don’t think…’

‘He can scold me later for it,’ she said in boredom and pushing the door open.  It was a dark, wooden office, with large bookcases, a giant fireplace, huge windows and a large desk with two chairs. She looked up at the high ceiling, feeling dizzy and then scanned the room. Something caught her eye, not the newly placed camera that was following her movements, but a picture that was placed on top of a piece of paper in one of the bookcases. She plucked it from the shelf and studied it.

It was an old picture with five people on it, who were standing in front of an ocean. The father was a lean man, posh and with the same black hair as Jim but his face decorated by a moustache. The woman was taller, brown, straight hair that was tied into a knot on her head, her hands wrapped around the oldest son. That son was a sportive type, longer brown hair and a bit of stubble around his giant smile. The second son looked a lot like his older brother, only set apart by the glasses on his face and then there was Jim, the last son. Standing a bit apart from the happy family, hands tugged into his pockets and a grin on his face, the only one who had his father’s black hair. ‘How sentimental,’ she said while placing the picture down and grabbing the piece of paper.

It turned out to be his birth certificate. She learned he was five years her senior, born in Dublin, Ireland and that “Jim” was short for James. ‘Please, Miss,’ Lionel said to her even more anxious while still standing by the door. She put the stuff back in their place and walked towards the door.

It was past teatime when they had seen every room in the house, including the swimming pool in the basement. The sun was lowering in the sky while they drank a cup in the open bedroom windows. ‘How long have you been working here?’ she asked Lionel while enjoying the sun on her face. ‘It’s been nearly two years since I started working for Mr Moriarty, Miss,’ he said before taking a sip. ‘What about your life before?’ He put his cup back on its plate and lowered his gaze a little, sadden by the memories.

His father had abandoned him, his two sisters and his mother when he was young. His mother had been working two jobs to provide for her children, developing a serious drug addiction from the stress. After a huge fight with her when he had told her he was gay, he had left her and his sisters behind and came to work for a criminal organisation. Starting at the bottom, it was up to him to do all the dirty jobs; murdering, kidnapping, torturing, running errands. He slowly had worked his way up to being the bodyguard for the head of the organisation; protecting him, following him everywhere he went and never asking questions. That was until the day Jim Moriarty destroyed the man and his little organisation, leaving Lionel unemployed. After much consideration, questions and hearing his life story, Jim had agreed to take him in; something Lionel was still thankful for until this day.

‘How is he like as your boss?’ she asked him after listening to his story in fascination. ‘Ow… you know,’ Lionel said smiling thinly. ‘He provided me with a good life, which I am truly grateful for and as long as you stay on his good side, he is very pleasant to work for… Miss.’ She nodded while she rubbed over the bruises on her arm. ‘I think you are good on that matter,’ he continued a bit shyly. She raised her eyebrows at him in surprise. ‘You are the first one that made it this long,’ he said, snickering softly. She smiled a little before she said; ‘So I’m special then.’ Lionel’s smile grew wider; ‘I believe you are, Miss. Some of the staff were starting to believe he only had eyes for Mr Moran.’ They both had to laugh at that; ‘Well… we do look alike, Moran and me.’

‘Not at all, Miss,’ Lionel said laughing. ‘Unlike Mr Moran you do have wits and besides… no one could be like Sebastian Moran.’

 


	9. Chapter 9

**JIM**

* * *

He sighed deeply while silently closing the front door behind him before leaning against it. Gently, he touched the split in his lip, flinching from the pain.

Today’s encounter had not ended well… for his opponents that was; he got off with some bruises and a thick lip. Annoyed he rubbed over the bruises on his jaw; the man had surprised him by suddenly taking a swing but he couldn’t cherish that little victory for long. He smiled to himself while thinking back on how they had cut the man’s hand off and made him eat it. No one was allowed to touch him without his consent, let alone beat him up.

He hated it how some days went by, the fighting and shouting; he often wondered what it all was for.

He placed his hand on the handle of the bedroom door, hesitated to push it down. She would be asleep by now but was he ready to face her again?

Funny enough he had longed for her; her touch, her smell, those wicked blue eyes staring at him and her soft body against his. The thought of that hardened him a bit; quickly he tried to let his mind wander to other matters but failed.

He had kept an eye on her through the day, watching her and Lionel stroll through the house, hearing their comments. Her boldness did not fail to amuse him, not only did she gave Moran a run for his money but was she bold enough to invade the most private part of the house, even when told not to.

Smiling to himself, he pushed the handle down and silently stepped into the room. He looked at her dark silhouette, covered by the blankets against the small wind coming from the window. Her long blonde hair did not cover up the white scars on her back, the scars that still made him curious. He wanted to know her story, in fact he wanted to know all that was going on in that mind of hers. It would take time; he knew; this one was not like any other woman he had ever encountered but he would get it out of her.

He walked past the bed and undressed himself; feeling the cold wind on his back. When he lay himself down and turned to her, he smiled surprised. Her eyes were wide awake and staring directly at him. ‘Did I wake you? Sorry…’ he let out tiredly.

Her hand found his face and cupped it a little, her thumb moving gently over his bruises. ’Work related.’ A warm feeling took over him when he saw her eyes soften in the moonlight; he wanted nothing more than for her to make the pain go away, to make him feel whole once more. She did not ask about it, which he thanked her for. Her soft lips found his, gently placing a kiss on them. The warmth in his wound made him flinch again. When she pulled back, almost scared of the fact she had hurt him, he kissed her again before sighing deeply and pulling her against his beaten up body.

He could feel her breasts against his side, making him nearly forget the news he got for her; ‘I found those people,’ he said into her hair, letting her scent fill his nostrils ‘Tomorrow you can pay some old friends a visit.’ She looked up to give him a long, warm kiss as a thank you. He had never thought that having someone just for himself would feel so good.

He woke up from her finger tracing over his chest, he enjoyed it for a moment before opening his eyes. He ran his hand over his face and through his hair before turning to her and pushing her against his body. He didn’t care about the time or about breaking his own rules; he just wanted to hold her and smell her.

She wrapped a leg around him and slowly started to grind against him while softly biting into his flesh. ‘Horny little thing, aren’t you?’ he chuckled while he was getting harder.

She let go of his flesh and said; ‘I want to make my first payment.’

Amused he shook his head before rolling onto his back and spreading his arms; ‘Fine, pay me.’

In a blink of the eye, she was completely naked and on top of him; wasting no time to get him inside of her. Why did she have to feel so good, why couldn’t she be like the rest of them? Failing to put his feelings aside, he sat up and wrapped himself around her while she was slowly moving her hips up and down. His hand touched her breast, squeezed it a little before he stuck her nipple in his mouth, sucking and biting it gently. She enjoyed it, letting out soft moans, burying her face in his hair while a hand gently brushed over his beaten jaw.

He gave her nipple one last lick before looking up to her. Her eyes were soft and narrowed, pupils as big as they could get and a small smile on her face while she looked down at him. He kissed her deeply and felt how the lust made room for passion. Shocked he almost broke off; he had never felt like this before.

No, no, no, he could not let her get to him; she was his client, his plaything nothing more. He stared into her eyes and felt lost for a moment. Why did he like this woman so much? Why did she make him feel all these new things, why, why, why… this wasn’t good, it was making him angry.

He pushed her back down into the cushions and hovered over her; searching, searching, he had to find it, he had to know why. She met his gaze and he saw how her eyes went soft; finally he found his answer.

She was looking for the same thing he had all his life; someone that would love him for who he was. He had to wonder, could she be the one that could give that to him, make him feel it, make him drown in it?

A text on his phone snapped him out of it; he could feel his old self coming back. What was he doing again? Yes, fucking her.

He turned her around abruptly, pushed her lower back up and entered again. The lust came back. He pounded her hard, pushing her deeper and deeper into the matrass, moaning loudly. He loved the feeling of owning her; he wanted to brand her so when anyone that lay eyes on her would know that she was his plaything for now.

He was still toying with the idea when he felt her coming; moaning loudly and her body twitching. Her muscles tightened around his cock and he could not resist any longer. With a loud grunt he spilled inside of her, still riding her until every last drop was out. Breathing heavily he let himself fall on his back, enjoying. She lay down beside him and snuggled herself under his arm; he began to rub her shoulder gently.

‘By the way,’ he said in between breaths. ‘I’m counting that broken vase into your payment plan. Money isn’t growing on my back, you know.’

They both broke out in laughter.

 


	10. Chapter 10

**HELENA**

* * *

**‘** I need to go,’ she said smiling while they were kissing deeply. ‘Hmm… no you don’t,’ he said before attacking her lips again, rubbing his hands over her naked body. She almost gave up and would stay in bed with him all day, but she had promised. ‘I do… he is waiting,’ she managed to say before gasping for air when he sucked on her hard nipple. ‘Then let him wait,’ he said moving up again and folding his hand into her own. ‘We’re busy.’

He started to kiss her again and she gave up; not willing to leave him. Suddenly the room filled with music coming from his phone; she recognised it; Stayin’ Alive from the Bee Gees. With an annoyed moan he let his head fall on her chest before rolling over to his side of the bed to answer it.

‘What do you want?’ he said a bit angered while turning on his back. She got out of the bed and made her way to the bathroom; not interested in his business. While the hot water poured over her, she thought back on what just had happened. He had switched between personalities so quickly she couldn’t keep up. First he had been sweet, then angry and then sweet again. She knew he had been struggling with himself, his eyes had betrayed him when he had looked into her own; was he actually starting to feel something for her?

She had no time to think about how she felt about that, just as she wanted to clean herself, he joined her. ‘Sorry about that… so… where were…,’ while he slipped his arms around her, the hot water poured over him; making him retreat back. ‘Jesus, woman… are you trying to burn yourself to death?’ he asked in unbelief while rubbing his arms. She turned around smiling and said sweetly; ‘well, I am a very dirty girl.’ He exhaled deeply, turned the water a pinch colder before pinning her against the tiles and slipping inside of her. Seeing no change to escape, she surrendered and let him fuck her again. The tiles were scraping over her back and the water poured all over them; letting her experience a whole new sensation. His lips left her mouth and slowly started to kiss down her neck. When he reached a specific spot, her whole body froze for a moment before she exploded all over him. ‘Ow…’ he said softly with a grin on his face before biting it again. ‘No… no… don’t,’ she moaned softly; knowing she could not talk him out of it. It did not take long before she came again… and again and finally he came himself.

‘Off you go,’ he said while smacking her ass when they were clean, dried and clothed. ‘Else we’re getting nowhere today.’ ‘And whose fault is that?’ she asked sarcastically while binding her hair into a ponytail. He grabbed her from behind and whispered into her ear; ‘Well… yours of course.’ Before she could reply, he gave her a kiss on the cheek and made his way to the door. ‘She’s all yours,’ he said in a high- pitched voice to Lionel, who had patiently waited in the hallway.

‘Morning, Miss,’ he said with an amused smile when he saw her. ‘Morning,’ she said a bit ashamed while closing the door behind her. ‘We better do this outside, the boss was already complaining about that broken vase.’ ‘As you wish… Miss.’

The bright sun almost blinded her when they stepped outside, the wind tugging at her sweater and creeping up her jeans. They passed the large fountain in front of the greenhouse and found a good spot on the brown-green grass, facing some trees. ‘You go first, Miss,’ Lionel said while handing her his gun. ‘Want to see what we are dealing with.’ She made a face but took the gun anyway; it felt strange in her hands. ‘You may aim it at that large tree over there, Miss,’ he said pointing towards the tree that was closest to them.  ‘Arms up… very good, cock it… yes… and pull!’ She felt how the gun staggered back in her hand but she managed to hold onto it. When she lowered it, Lionel walked up the tree and inspected it briefly before returning to her. ‘Well?’ she asked curious. ‘Not bad, Miss,’ Lionel said amused. ‘Not bad at all… nearly missed it.’

She let out an annoyed moan and he snickered; ‘Try again, Miss. Focus your eye.’ She tried again and again until she finally managed to hit the tree in the middle. ‘After long suffering, I proclaim him dead,’ Lionel said proudly when he had inspected it again. ‘Told you, guns aren’t my thing,’ she said while handing it back to him. ‘Knives on the other hand.’ He put his gun back into his pocket and took a few knives out of his other; eagerly she took one from his hands. It was a beauty, leather hilt and very new; she poked it into her finger tip to feel its sharpness, making her shiver a bit from pleasure. ‘I’ve never met a woman so fascinated by knives before,’ Lionel said smiling, his white teeth shone in the sunlight. ‘I’m not like most woman,’ she shrugged while twirling the knife around her fingers.

‘Don’t look, but we’ve got an audience, Miss,’ Lionel said softly. ‘Who?’ she asked, not looking back. ‘Mr Moriarty and Mr Moran, Miss.’ Moran… he was probably dying to see her making a mistake or convincing Jim to let him shoot her already. Not afraid by the sudden stares, she threw the knife; it stuck itself in the most far away tree. ‘Wow,’ Lionel let out in admiration. She shook her head and held up her hand for another knife; she would show Moran who was good knives. The second knife stuck itself in the leather hilt from its successor. ‘That’s insane…’ Lionel said when they both had made their way up to the tree to examine it. ‘Think he will be impressed?’ she asked while giving a short nod to the balcony Jim and Moran were watching from. Lionel looked briefly, before pulling the knives out and saying; ‘Mr Moran is never impressed.’ While they walked back to their spot, she looked up briefly and saw a smile form on Jim’s face while he was looking directly at her and ignoring Moran, who was hissing in his ear. Smiling she lowered her gaze again and helped Lionel throwing the knife in a deadly way.

‘So… this is it, huh?’ she asked when he had parked the car in front of a three stories high, apartment complex. They were close to St John Church in Hackney, not far away from home. ‘Lovely, isn’t it?’ he said sarcastically while handing her a pair of gloves. She shrugged, it did not surprise her that Lisa had ended up here; working as a teacher at Fairfine could not pay that well. She put the gloves on and got out of the car. She was happy that he was with her; she did not know how she would react when seeing Lisa again and with him by her side she felt the urge to act strong.

It had begun to rain softly; a puddle was forming near the entrance door. Naturally, the door was locked and could only be opened from the inside. She let her finger slide over the name tags; picked one she found sounding funny and rang the bell next to it. ‘H…hello?’ an old woman’s voice said through the intercom. ‘Good evening, Mam,’ she said sweetly. ‘I’m sorry to bother you at this hour but I wanted to visit my aunt, Lisa Becket. She seems to be out at the moment but could I wait for her inside? Awful weather today.’ She hoped the old woman wasn’t going to make a fuss about it. ‘Y… yes of course, let me open the door for you,’ the old woman said in her shaky voice after some consideration. Shortly after, a buzzer sounded and Jim pushed it open, holding it for her. ‘Thank you, Mam,’ she ended happily, her face showing no trace of it. ‘Have a great evening.’ ‘And to you,’ the old woman hung up. She looked at him standing by the door, the same grin on his face like hers; they both would have a great evening. They walked up two staircases and pushed open the gallery door.

‘Here we go, second floor number ten,’ he said while pointing at the end of the gallery. They stopped before the door with a golden number ten on it; there was no light coming through the windows. ‘Old people are too easy,’ he said almost sulkily while fishing a key out of his inner pocket. If only he had known what this woman was capable of, he wouldn’t have said it; she could feel the scars on her back ace.  They entered a bright pink hallway; he made some disgusted sounds before locking the door behind them. Of course she would go for pink, trying to hide the black of her soul. They left the hallway for what it was and entered the small, richly furnished living room. ‘Poorly,’ she commented while looking around. ‘I guess burning children does not pay that well.’ Jim chuckled softly before watching out of the window through a slid in the red curtains. She sat down on the small, matching red sofa and shooed away the cat that was sleeping on it. She was feeling excited but still there was a bit of fear; this woman never had been an easy one. It did not take long before they heard keys rattle at the front door. Lisa entered her hallway murmuring and hung up her coat and umbrella.

She gasped loudly when seeing the unwanted visitors in her living room; dropping the bag with groceries unto the floor. ‘Who… who are you?’ she asked startled, looking from the one to the other. ‘How did you get in?’ ‘Hello,’ Jim said softly while standing up from the windowsill he had been sitting on. ‘Come in, come in!’ He walked up to the woman, wrapped an arm around her shoulders and guided her towards her; ‘I want to introduce someone to you.’ Too scared to object, Lisa let herself be guided towards her, stepping into the small light. She had grown older, wrinkles covering her face and her long, black hair had turned white; she still had that sternness over her face and eyes like black holes.

‘This is Helena… do you remember her?’ he said while lightly gesturing to her with is hand. ‘No? Perhaps when you see what you did to her…’ She turned herself around a bit; her low cut sweater revealing the white scars on her back. A sudden expression of recognition came upon Lisa her face and she stuttered; ‘y… you!’ ‘OW, you do remember me!’ she said with a smile and pulling the knife out of her pocket, feeling the anger coming up. ‘I’m almost flattered.’ Lisa tried to get away from Jim’s grip, but he held her firmly; ‘No, no, no, no, don’t run away now. We’ve only just begun.’ She walked up to Lisa, grabbed her by her hair and jammed her face into the small coffee table; they heard her nose crack and she whimpered out loud. ‘No… please… no,’ she whined, crying softly now. ‘When children misbehave, we have to teach them a lesson they will never forget,’ she quoted a line from her past; hearing Lisa say it herself in her mind.

She cut through her vest and shirt while the old woman desperately tried to get away. ‘No… he made me… he made me!’ Lisa cried out. ‘Please…’ ‘Do you hear that?’ she asked him amused. ‘He made her abuse innocent children.’ He chuckled softly; ‘that’s what they all say.’ She pushed the knife into the flesh of Lisa’s back, tracing it down. She screamed out in pain, crying hysterically; ‘you have to believe me… please… he made me… he made me!’ ‘You’ve told us already,’ she said, getting aroused from the knife cutting open the flesh and the blood pouring down. She began another line and another, letting the old woman feel how she had felt; helpless and alone.

When there was no room left, she bowed back up and looked at the work she had left behind. She closed her eyes for a second and inhaled deeply, trying to supress the feeling of arousal. When she succeeded, she rolled Lisa onto her back; the woman was in too much pain to struggle any further. Teary, scared eyes looked at her, blood dripping from her broken nose. ‘I… I’m sorry.’ Lisa stuttered softly. Anger got a hold of her and she pushed the point of the knife into the flesh above the heart. He bowed next to her and whispered in her ear; ‘deeper, make it go deeper.’ Clearly he was just as turned on as she was. She pushed it down and saw how the light vanished in Lisa’s eyes; her mouth a bit open and some tears rolling of her cheeks. She let out a soft moan when she felt the knife get stuck and bowed back up.

‘Good girl,’ he said before kissing her cheek while pinching her ass.

 


	11. Chapter 11

**JIM**

* * *

 

They left Hackney behind and made their way to Peckham. He knew Peckham well; a lot of his clients came from that area. He drove them there in silence, the radio softly playing some tunes. He glanced to her from time to time, seeing how she was holding up. She had made him proud just now, never flinching when pushing the knife down the old woman’s heart. When he had seen the look of arousal on her face, he had almost taken her there and then. She was looking more like him then he had thought; it had made his decision to keep her around so much easier for him.

‘We’re here,’ he said while parking the car when they had arrived at their destination. He tossed her another pair of gloves and got out. It was raining harder now, he felt how it splashed under his shoes while they walked up towards one of the terrace houses. They stopped on the sidewalk in front of the wild garden and saw how light came through the curtains; changing colours came from the television. ‘Do make this one a quickie, will you?’ he said softly while checking the time on his watch. ‘Moran seems to need me.’ ‘Fine…spoil all the fun,’ she said annoyed before turning and going around the back. They took the path that was connected with the backyards, picked the right one and entered it silently.

When they reached the shed, that seemed to be locked, he watched with fascination how she pulled out two, well hidden, hairpins out of her hair and fumbled them into the lock. After a minute he heard the lock click; he gave her an impressed smile. How many other hidden talents did she have? ‘Let’s get his attention, shall we?’ he said in boredom when they stood inside, before slamming the door shut and opening it again. She sat down on a bike rack, gazing at him; he saw how her eyes lighted up when they heard the backdoor open. Mumbling to himself, Michael Liddell walked up to the shed; not afraid to investigate the sudden noise.

When he pushed the door all the way open, he pulled the light cord and cried out in surprise when he saw Helena sitting on his bike; failing to see him. ‘Who are you? What are you doing here?’ he said angered ‘This is private property!’ ‘Am I pretty enough?’ she asked sweetly, slowly getting up from her seat; surprising him and Michael both. ‘W…what?’ Michael stuttered, combing his hand through his thin, white hair. ‘Am I pretty enough?’ she asked again, this time adding her sweetest smile. ‘I don’t… what?’ Michael asked confused, staggering backwards when she took a step forward.

Quickly he slammed the door shut, smiling at the sudden fear that had come up onto Michael’s face. ‘W…what’s going on?’ Michael stuttered, raising his hands in surrender when he took out his gun and aimed it at him. When the old man looked back at Helena his eyes grew bigger. In her open hand was a yellow star; it made Michael cringe back in fear, nearly bumping into him. He placed the barrel against the back of the man’s head and saw how he fell onto his knees, pleading for his life. ‘No…no… please, I never meant to… I never wanted,’ he cried out, looking from the one to the other. ‘Aren’t they sweet when they plead?’ he said amused to her. ‘Like it would make any difference at all,’ she said while replacing the star for a knife. ‘Get up old man.’

Urged on by the gun to his head, Michael stood up and walked towards her, his hands still up in the air. She brushed his cheek briefly when he was close enough; ‘I think you’re pretty. Special really.’ ‘Please,’ Michael squeaked. She jammed his head against a working bench and kicked him down in the back of the knees. She then yanked his head back, opened his mouth and pulled out his tongue. In full force the knife pinned it stuck onto the bench; making Michael cry out in pain. ‘Are you feeling special yet? No?’ she said dangerously while twisting the knife a little. ‘Seems like your little job is over now.’ She pulled out the knife and cut off his tongue. All he could do was watching her, seeing her inner demons come above the surface. While he stood there, admiring her, she took the gun from his hand, placed the barrel against the back of the man’s head and pulled the trigger. Breathing heavily, she walked around him, yanked his bloody head back up and stuck the yellow star in the open wound. He had never seen anything that beautiful when she turned around; looking at him with blood all spattered over her and a smile on her face. Then he knew; this woman was what he had been looking for and she was going to be his for as long as he lived.

They made their way to Brighton the following night, to pay a visit to the last person on her list. He had never liked Brighton; Carl Powers was from Brighton. Carl had always made fun of him when he was younger; laughing, bullying and calling him a freak. He had been the one laughing last when poor Carl had a fit in the swimming pool; the thought of that never failed to amuse him.

While on the road towards Woodingdean, the place where Daniel Lowell was spending his retired days in his little home, she asked him to take a turn to the right. He knew she was from around here; he had heard it in her accent but was surprised when he drove straight into a poorly area. When they were reaching a small park, she asked him to take the second turn on the right; curious where she was leading him to, he obeyed. She made him stop before a corner house from a line of terrace houses in a street called Whitehawk road. Before he could shut down the engine, she was already out; staring to the house. He stood beside her, laid his arm around her waist and followed her gaze. The house was nearly hidden away behind giant shrubs, in the middle a broken gate and the yard was overgrown with weeds. He didn’t have to ask what this place was, instead he asked her softly; ‘are they still in there?’

Snapping out of her painful memories she looked up to him, shook her head and went back to the car. He gave the house one last look before following her. To take her mind of the memories she refused to share, he told her about Daniel Lowell. Daniel was a long term client of his. He remembered the creepy old man like it was yesterday. Moran had brought him to his attention; telling how the old man wanted to spent the last of his money. All they had found out about him was that he was a headmaster at an old facility in London; Fairfine House for unwanted children, and of course his desire to have sex with young girls. The men he had assigned with that little job were starting to complain. Scotland Yard had caught wind of it, in prisoning some of the errand-boys. So he felt no loss shutting that business down as from today. When Helena had mentioned the name, he did not have to ask what had happened between the two of them. He had never liked the old man and now it was turning into hatred.

‘That is disgusting,’ she said almost angry when he had told her about Daniel and him. ‘What?’ he asked almost innocent before taking a turn to the left. ‘He asked for my help and I provided. Besides he pays good money for them.’ ‘Like you need the money,’ she said while rolling her eyes at him. ‘No, I don’t,’ he answered in a calm voice before parking the car in the street behind Lowell’s house. He knew she would understand, eventually, and hoped she would be forgiving for what he was about to do next. They got out onto the street and watched the back of the small house.

‘I am… sorry about this,’ he said almost apologizing, yet still smiling. He covered her mouth with a piece of ductape and saw her eyes grew darker.  ‘Don’t look so angry,’ he said laughing, taking the rope of the backseat of the car and throwing his hands into the air. ‘It is all for the show.’ He bound her wrists together, ran his hands through his hair, before covering it with a black cap and dragged her around the corner. He stopped at the front door of the small house, gave it two little knocks, winked at her and waited. After a minute the door opened a little and a rushed voice told them to come in quickly.

He passed through the small, dark hallway, tugging her along with him and stopped in the living room. It smelled awful; piss and booze were some of it. It was extremely filthy; trash and dirty clothes lying around and on the wall were pictures of young girls. Clenching his teeth together he turned around and said, in his London accent, to the dark shadow from the man standing by the door; ‘I’ve brought you the catch of the day.’ He gave a little yank on the rope; ‘the boss does apologize for the age.’

The man that stepped out into the light was even more horrible then Moran had described him and the alcohol stench was making him sick. Dirty, long, grey hair was stuck on his sweaty face, his clothes full of stains and when he smiled he could see that his teeth were yellow and some were missing. He felt how she was shifting away from the old man; clearly in fear. Daniel observed his victim, approved and turned around to get the wallet out of the pocket of his coat. ‘It’s fine. What happened to the kid that normally brings them here?’ he asked while counting the money in his wallet. ‘He got into a little….accident,’ he replied smiling. Daniel nodded and gave him the money. ‘550 was it?’ He nonchalantly plucked the money from his hands and gave Daniel the rope he was holding. Helena let out some muffled screams and tried desperately to get away from him. ‘A fierce one, this is,’ he said while pushing her towards Daniel with one hand. ‘No matter,’ the old man said with eyes full of pleasure. ‘I love it when they struggle.’

That comment gave him shivers down his spine, but he had to continue the game. ‘May I?’ he asked Daniel’s back in boredom while pointing to an old armchair. ‘I might give it a go when you are done.’ ‘Help yourself,’ Daniel said, never taking his gaze of Helena. He dropped himself in the chair and started to count the money. ‘A pretty one, aren’t you?’ he could hear Daniel ask her softly, his voice dripping from eager. He had expected this, but it did not mean he had to like it. When he looked up he saw how Daniel gave the rope a little yank, pulling her closer. He placed one finger on her covered lips and it made its way down towards the buttons of her vest, opening the first.

He flinched from anger and lowered his gaze quickly; not yet. ‘So young and soft, everything still in its place,’ he could hear Daniel licking his lips slowly while opening the second button. The money in his hand was shaking; it took all of his strength not to attack the man already. ‘I bet you are still nice and tight down there.’ He looked up in anger; only to have it crushed by the way she was looking at him. He saw how the trust in him was snuffing out, her eyes filling up with fear. Daniel was starting to fumble with the last button, which would expose her breasts. Something snapped inside of him and he got up onto his feet. ‘I am so sorry,’ he started to laugh. ‘I suddenly changed my mind… I don’t want to share her after all.’ ‘What are you talking about, kid?’ Daniel turned his head in anger. ‘I paid the price, she is mine.’ ‘550?’ he looked at the money with boredom before throwing it through the room. It floated to the floor. ‘Not nearly enough for this one.’ ‘Are you… are you thick in the head or what?’

Daniel asked shocked before he turned angry. ‘When I tell your boss about this…’ ‘The boss has heard you,’ he answered softly with a grin on his face. ‘And he would like for you to get your filthy hands of his woman.’ Daniel looked at him in horror.

The darkness inside took control over him and he heard himself say; ‘You have been a very naughty man, Mr Lowell.’ His hand took the knife out of his pocket. ‘Teaching young girls lessons they would never, ever forget.’ He looked at her. The fear had been replaced by anger and disgust. Daniel suddenly recognised her and gave her a creepy smile. ‘Helena Woods, the one that got away.’ Helena cursed at him, muffled by the ductape on her mouth. ‘Still such a dirty mouth,’ he said while taking a step towards her, forgetting everything else. ‘I thought I had fucked that out of you.’ The boldness of the man astonished him and the urge to kill him grew bigger. He kicked the man down in the back of the knees and he fell on the ground in pain. He squatted in front of him and yanked the man back up. There was panic and fear on his face before he pleaded for his life; ‘Please, Mr Moriarty. I didn’t know… I never meant to…’

The knife was stabbed into the left eye, Daniel started to scream. He pulled the old man closer by the collar of his sweater and whispered into his ear; ‘I do love it when they struggle.’ All his feelings went loose at once when he pulled the knife out. He stabbed and stabbed and stabbed, feeling the blood spatter over him and heard the screams growing quiet. He stopped when he felt the knife hit something hard. Breathing heavily, he stood back up and looked at the remains of the old man’s face; a big smile formed on his lips.

‘That felt good,’ he admitted to her when he turned around, blood dripping from his gloves to the ground. He cut the rope from her wrists, took off the ductape and closed the buttons of her vest. Helena took the knife from him, clearly mad at him, sat beside the dead man and cut open his sweater. In his bare chest she cut the words ‘I’m a perv.’ He chuckled when she started to unzip the old man’s pants. ‘Hasn’t he suffered enough yet?’ She ignored him and took, with one clean cut, his genitals off. While making a face she pushed them into the bloodied mouth. ‘Beautiful,’ he said while taking an arm and gestured she did the same. They dragged the body into the front yard and dropped it near the flagpole. He lowered the hook and together they hung the man tight. Shrieking the man went up, hanging there for the entire world to see. When the body reached the middle, he tightened the rope and they went back towards the car. He tossed the cap, gloves and knife on the backseat and started the engine.

While making the way to the high road that would lead back to London, he saw a cemetery coming up. ‘Stop…please,’ she suddenly said after ignoring him, laying her hand on his arm. He did what she asked him to, not wanting to make the damage even bigger. Again she was out before he even parked the car properly and made her way to the cemetery. When he had parked, he followed her in. She had found the names she was looking for in a register by the gate and made her way through the dark. Not wanting to fall down some newly dug grave, he put the flashlight of his cell phone on.

He found her standing by a grave under some trees, impressed how she had managed to find it in only the moonlight. He shone the light onto the names on the headstone; Margaret Woods- Keaton and Robert Woods. Judging by the date of births it were her mother and younger brother. They stood there watching in silence; he would get her story some other time. In the distance police sirens could be heard and he knew it was time to leave. He gently took her hand and guided her back to the car. They drove back in silence again, making him feel really uncomfortable.

He wasn’t used to caring about people who were angry with him; in fact he wasn’t used to caring about someone else at all. The way she had looked at him earlier had really crushed him. It had never been his intention to make her feel that way; he had thought she could handle it. He found it sweet that she actually had a vulnerable side, especially now that she was becoming his. When they were near London again he had to break the silence; ‘you are funny when you’re mad.’ She still chose to ignore him, watching the abandoned street before them. He stared at her through the car mirror, patiently waiting.

‘You let him touch me,’ she said when she couldn’t take it anymore. He hit the brakes so suddenly; she nearly crashed into the dashboard. He didn’t know to be angry with himself or with her. When he had parked the car on a small piece of meadow near the road, he turned to her. With his face just an inch away from hers, he heard himself say; ‘I will never let anyone touch you again… I’ll make sure of that.’ She was looking for it in his eyes, repairing the trust he had broken. When she saw he truly meant it, her eyes went softer. He felt how she hooked her fingers on the collar of his shirt and pulled him on top of her. He liked it how she could change so quickly, it reminded him of him.

Their lips met briefly before he broke off and said amused; ‘so, Woods, huh?’ ‘Just shut up,’ she answered while pulling him back with one hand while the other was unzipping him.


	12. Chapter 12

**HELENA**

* * *

 

Light came through her closed eyes when she wakened by someone entering the chamber. ‘What do you want, Moran?’ Jim asked with a sleepy voice in the back of her neck. ‘The information you asked for, Sir,’ Sebastian mumbled annoyed. ‘Retrieved and deleted.’

‘Ohh!’ he sat up and took the paper from him. ‘You are getting slow, my dear.’ ‘Sir,’ Moran said stiffly before leaving the room. ‘Well, well, Helena Catherine Woods,’ he said amused. Her eyes popped open and she turned to him, surprised to hear the name. ‘Ow, come on. You really believed I wouldn’t look you up?’ he said amused.

She shrugged; ‘you could’ve just asked me.’ ‘And you could’ve just told me,’ he said also shrugging before continuing to read out loud. ‘Born on the 11th of June in Brighton, father’s name; Edward Woods, mother’s name; Margaret Woods- Keaton, brother’s name; Robert Woods. Disappeared at age 12 and then two blank years before you pop up at Fairfine house for unwanted children in London.’

He put the paper on the nightstand and looked at her; ‘will you fill in the blanks now?’ She rolled her eyes at him and stretched her arms above her head. ‘For me? Pleaseeee?’ he said in a high-pitched voice, smiling. ‘Fine, if that shut’s you up,’ she lashed out at him. ‘OW, goodie,’ he pushed the pillows against the headboard before lying back down and placing a hand under his head; ‘I do love a good story.’ She made a face at him and annoyed she began her story.  

‘There once was a poor family of four, living in a little house in the bad side of town. The father of the family worked in a glass factory and the mother was a stay at home mom. Daddy hated his job, and the little wage he got paid. The only joy he got was getting himself pissed in the pub near the factory. But that little bit of joy snuffed out the moment he entered his home. If daddy couldn’t be happy, no one could.

He would beat up his wife and his children when they angered him. But one day daddy went too far.

He got home; drunk as ever, sat down at the dinner table and ate the poor meal he got served. It reminded him of all the things he did not like in life, so he got angry again. When the little boy accidentally dropped his fork on the floor, daddy lashed out. He grabbed his son under the arms and banged his head against the wall, screaming. Mommy started to cry when the blood splattered over the wall.

Daddy had just killed his own son.

He dropped the body to the floor and lashed his new found anger out on the mommy; screaming it was all her fault. When everyone in the room had forgotten she even existed the daughter slipped away, packed a few things and left through the backdoor.

All alone she wandered near the road until a huge truck stopped next to her. Where are you heading, love?’ the old truck driver asked. ‘To my aunt in London,’ the little girl lied. ‘London hey? I’m heading that way. But where are your parents?’ ‘I don’t have any parents,’ the girl lied again. When he suggested bringing her to the police instead; she cried and cried until the old man finally gave in. Heavy hearted he let her go when they had reached London.  She found a group of homeless people that were willing to look after her and she lived on the streets for two years.

That was until that day she walked right into the hands of an officer on duty while stealing some food from a local supermarket. When the officer found out she had no place to go home to, he took her to the one place all lost children went; Fairfine house for unwanted children. The house was one of the most dreadful places she had ever seen and living there was hell.

It was packed with children, barley enough food for all of them and then there were some teachers working there that believed that hard discipline was the best discipline. Miss Becket was one of those teachers; breaking your fingers with a ruler ore decorating your body with an iron poke when you did not behave in her eyes, were a normal thing for her.

She also had a little friend; the handyman of the house. Michael had more jobs then only fixing the heater. When he saw a young girl that looked at least a bit pretty, he would give her a yellow star.  ‘A special star for a special girl.’ he used to say.

Indeed you were very special when given such a star, the headmaster Mr Lowell would show you just how special of a girl you were to him. So one day, after a visit at the headmaster’s office, the girl had enough.

During lunchtime, she made one of the other children, which she disliked anyway, choke in a plastic cup. When everyone was busy saving the poor child, she took her change, grabbed her stuff and left through the backdoor. The end.’


End file.
